


Blood and Stars

by Arwriter



Series: Learned Behavior [10]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Protective Morality | Patton Sanders, Virgil is getting better, but things happen, everyone else is mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:14:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: Sometimes, Virgil doesn't know what to do without the pain. That doesn't mean he ever wanted it in the first place.
Series: Learned Behavior [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918165
Comments: 16
Kudos: 318





	Blood and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I was hesitant about posting this one since it's a bit different, but I feel like it's important to Virgil's recovery process. 
> 
> TW: mentions of self-harm. It's not graphic or written about in detail, but it's discussed. I don't think it's too intense, but please stay safe <3

Patton never would have brought it up again on his own. 

He’d caught a glimpse of a nasty looking scratch along Virgil’s forearm while the two of them were doing the dishes after dinner. It didn’t look too deep- long, thin, and horizontal just beneath his wrist, but it didn’t look particularly pleasant. 

“What happened there?” he asked, when they’d finished the dishes, not missing the way Virgil’s shoulders tensed as he quickly pulled his hoodie sleeves back down.

He hesitated, still tugging at the ends of his sleeves as he stared down at the sink, and Patton reminded himself not to push. 

“I- I broke a mug,” Virgil muttered after a moment. “One of Logan’s glass ones. It was on the edge of the table and I, uh, bumped it. Accidentally cut myself on the glass when I was cleaning it up.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry kiddo.” Patton was careful to keep his voice light, conversational, despite how badly he wanted to squeal with pride and pull Virgil into a bone crushing hug. 

He was obviously nervous about this, about openly admitting a mistake and not immediately expecting screams or punches, but he was  _ doing it.  _

“It’s fixed though,” Virgil added. “Or I...I asked Roman to fix it. No one was angry.” 

“Of course not,” Patton said gently. “Accidents happen. And I’m proud of you for getting help.” 

Virgil ducked his head, flashing Patton a tentative smile from behind his bangs, but the moral side noticed how he rubbed absently at the scratch on his arm. 

“You got that cut all cleaned up, right?” he asked. “We don’t want it to get infected.” 

Virgil blinked, staring blankly for just a second like he had no clue what Patton was talking about. It only lasted a moment, realization visibly dawning, and he pulled his sleeve all the way over his hand. 

“Oh! Yeah, uh, I did. It’s fine, Pat. I’m all good.”

Patton didn’t want to risk stressing him out or sending him into a string of apologies for a mistake he hadn’t made, so he just smiled, squeezed his uncovered hand, and dropped the subject. 

That had been a little over two days ago, and Patton honestly hadn’t given it a second thought. He’d confirmed the events with Roman that same day, both of them happy with Virgil’s progress, but other than that it hadn’t crossed his mind. 

It was almost ten when there was a knock on Patton’s door, just after he’d changed into pajamas for the night, the sound small and hesitant. 

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to find it was Virgil on the other side of the door, arms wrapped around himself, hood pulled up over his head. 

“Hey kiddo,” Patton said softly. “What’s up?” 

Virgil was silent for a moment, eyes glued to the ground, and Patton realized he was shaking. “I, uh- s-sorry I know it’s late I just...I think I need to talk to you about something.” 

There was something about his voice, how scared and hesitant it sounded, like he’d done everything in his power to convince himself to knock on Patton’s door tonight. 

“Alright,” he said. “Do you want to go into the living room? I know my room isn’t always the best place for you.” 

Virgil nodded, stepping aside to let Patton into the hall, the two sides making their way downstairs in heavy silence. 

The anxious side went straight to the couch while Patton made a quick detour into the kitchen to get them both some tea, hoping a hot drink would help to calm both their nerves. 

But it was another five minutes before Virgil worked up the courage to speak, sitting silently beside Patton, staring blankly into the steaming mug, stiff and unmoving. 

“I lied to you,” Virgil said softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Patton frowned, taking in Virgil’s hunched and trembling shoulders, and forcefully pushed down his own uneasiness. “Well, I’m sure you had a good reason, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

“The cut on my arm,” Virgil said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut when Patton went very still. “I- I didn’t...it wasn’t an accident. I did it to myself.” 

Patton’s breath caught, something heavy in his chest growing to a suffocating weight. He swallowed, turning the words over in his head, carefully setting his mug down on the coffee table. 

He knew he should say something comforting, offer Virgil the reassurance and support he so desperately needed right now, carefully encouraging him to elaborate. But all that came out was a hushed, “Oh.” 

Virgil winced at that, curling in on himself, hands shaking around the plastic mug settled against his knee. Patton saw him swallow, breath hitching before he spoke again. “I...I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, honey…” he trailed off, suddenly at a loss. What was he supposed to say? That it was ok? It...it  _ wasn’t _ . “I’m not angry with you, I’m just...how- how much have you--?” 

“Just once,” Virgil said quickly, and Patton’s shoulders dropped in relief. “I swear, it was just one time, Patton I promise I didn’t...I- I’m not--” 

“I believe you.” 

Virgil nodded at that, letting out a shaky breath, trembling hands carefully setting down the mug, still not quite able to look the other side in the eyes. 

“I...thought about doing it again,” he admitted. “That’s why I came and got you.” 

“That’s good,” Patton said, reaching over to take Virgil’s hand. “That’s really good, Virge. Thank you for coming to me first.” 

Virgil shrugged, making no move to look up from his lap. “I was worried about upsetting you. I just...felt too stupid to go to anyone else.” 

“It’s not stupid, honey. Not at all.” He took a breath, squeezing the anxious side’s hand, choosing his words carefully. “Can...can you tell me why you did it? Did something happen?” 

Virgil shook his head, staring straight ahead at the empty staircase. He was absently rubbing at his sleeve with his free hand, and Patton fought to keep himself from staring, from asking to see just to set his racing mind at ease. 

It wasn’t his place. He was here to help, to move at Virgil’s pace. 

And then Virgil was digging into his pocket, fiddling with something beneath the cloth. He hesitated for just a moment, before wordlessly reaching out a hand to drop a small object into Patton’s palm. 

It was a piece of glass, sharp and jagged around the edges, painted a dark navy blue with tiny white specks that might resemble part of a constellation if it was put back where it belonged. 

It was a part of Logan’s mug, the one Virgil had broken, a piece of glass the anxious side must have pocketed before he’d gone to Roman for help. 

“Oh,  _ kiddo.”  _

Virgil suddenly pulled his hand away, wrapping his arms around himself, and Patton felt the loss of contact like a physical ache in his chest. 

He didn’t...he had no _idea_ what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. Logan would know, he thought. Logan always knew the best approach when it came to Virgil. 

But...but Virgil had gone to him. He’d been scared and confused and he’d gone to Patton first. That had to count for something, right? 

“It’s ok,” he whispered, and then immediately winced at his own words. “I mean- I mean it’s not- obviously, but...but I’m not mad. I promise, I just...can you tell me why? Roman said you seemed...fine.” 

“I was,” Virgil said, hoarse and unsteady. “I thought I was, but I...I was just staring at the glass and I...I  _ knew  _ it was ok. I knew it was just a mistake and I wasn’t in trouble but...God, Patton before if I had broken something of  _ theirs?  _ I wouldn’t have been able to walk for  _ days.”  _

Just like he always did when Virgil mentioned how he used to be treated, Patton felt a little breathless, a dangerous type of protective anger fighting its way up to the surface. 

But he forcefully pushed it back down, just like he always did. Virgil needed him right now. 

“I know.” 

“You don’t,” Virgil said. And again, just like always, he didn’t sound angry over his treatment. Just...hurt and resigned. “I’ve barely told you anything, Pat.” 

“Kiddo, I…” 

“They told me I deserved it,” Virgil continued. “You guys know that. And I...I  _ know  _ I didn’t. I- I know that now but I...I just kept looking at the glass and I- I couldn’t get that stupid little voice out of my head telling me I needed to be punished. That I...I  _ deserved  _ to be hurt for messing up.” 

He was wiping furiously at his eyes, tugging at his sleeve despite it being nowhere near high enough for Patton to be able to catch a glimpse of the mark. 

“That was how it was. I wouldn’t learn without pain. And if I didn’t learn...it would be worse. I know you guys would never, so I...I did it to myself. Without thinking, I just...hurt myself. Like they would have done.” 

Patton ignored his own tears, the panicked beating of his heart, instead reaching out to touch Virgil’s trembling shoulder, freezing when the anxious side flinched away. 

“Virgil,” he said softly, cringing at how unsure he sounded. “Nobody should ever be hurt over an accident. You shouldn’t...I’m so sorry you felt like you had to do that to yourself. That- that you wanted--” 

“I  _ don’t _ .” Virgil suddenly whirled to face him, eyes wide and brimming with tears, and he flinched when Patton involuntarily shrank back. “Sorry, I’m...s-sorry. I’m so sorry, Patton just...please don't think that. _Please._ ” 

“It’s alright, honey.” Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, Patton put the piece of glass on the coffee table and opened his arms in a hopeful invitation.

Virgil crumpled, face falling with so much hurt and  _ shame _ , slumping forward into Patton’s chest and letting out a breathy, panicked sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, desperate, and Patton quickly wrapped his arms around him. “I’m _ sorry _ , please don’t- please don’t hate me I don’t--” 

“I could never hate you.” He tightened his hold, reaching up to cup the back of Virgil’s head.  _ “Never _ . Don’t you think for a second that this changes a thing.” 

“I’m not gonna do it again,” Virgil added, voice muffled from Patton’s shirt and the sobs they were both fighting to hold back. “I sw- I swear I’m...I won’t. I don’t  _ want  _ to.” 

“I trust you,” Patton said, and he could only silently hope it was the right thing to say. “And we’ll be right here to help make sure you don’t. Just like we’ve always been.” 

Virgil didn’t speak again, not for another few moments, the two of them huddled on the couch, trembling and wrapped up in each other. 

When he held Virgil in his arms, sometimes Patton could only picture how life had used to be for him. Always terrified, always hurting, surrounded only by hatred and cruelty. 

Had Patton been the first person to ever hold him? Before he came to them, had there ever been a time he was shown even a shred of kindness?

“I didn’t deserve it.” 

It was so quiet, so small and sudden, for a second Patton thought he’d imagined it. But then the words registered, and he pulled back slightly to look down at the side in his arms. Virgil didn’t look up, didn’t move from where he lay against Patton’s chest. 

“Kiddo?” 

“I didn’t  _ deserve  _ it.” It was more forceful this time, and Patton felt Virgil tighten his frantic grip. “I hated it and they  _ knew  _ that and they still... _ why?  _ It’s been months and I can’t  _ stop  _ and they knew...I don’t  _ understand.  _ What did I  _ do?  _ Why would someone...why did they hate me enough to  _ do this?  _ I can’t...I can't get better and I can’t  _ stop.  _ I thought- I thought I  _ was  _ and then I did  _ this.”  _

Patton pulled off his glasses and set them aside, leaning forward to press a kiss to Virgil’s hair before shakily answering. “You didn’t do anything, honey. Some people are just...misguided. They’re the parts of Thomas he would never embrace. It wasn’t your fault. You were...you were just trapped.” 

Trapped was putting it lightly. Beaten, threatened, and gaslit were more accurate, but Virgil always felt uneasy using those terms. 

As much as Patton hated this, hated seeing Virgil in so much pain...this was the first time he’d ever really acknowledged that what happened had been unfair. That he’d deserved better. 

But he couldn’t really find it in himself to dwell on that when Virgil was crying into his shirt again, trembling and gasping and so clearly  _ ashamed.  _

“I owe you guys  _ everything,”  _ Virgil managed. “I didn’t think it- it could ever stop and then it  _ did.  _ You- you said you would never hurt me and you didn’t, and I just... _ thank you.  _ You don’t know how much I  _ wanted  _ this.” 

Patton’s throat felt tight icy dread and warm love fighting for dominance, hatred for the people who had left Virgil damaged (not broken, he reminded himself- just bruised. He was getting so much better even if Virgil couldn’t see it himself) settling deep in his gut. 

He shoved it aside, and held Virgil tighter, letting him cry it out. 

“You don’t need to thank us,” he said. “Loving you isn’t a chore, Virgil. You don’t ever need to feel like you owe us for being kind.” 

“But nobody else ever  _ was!  _ Nobody...I- I know you always say it wasn’t my fault but...but they all  _ hated me.  _ What if...what if  _ I _ did something wrong?” 

“You didn’t.” They’d been over this before, but Patton would say it over and over again if he had to. “Nothing could warrant the treatment you got, Virge. You know that.” 

“I...y-yeah, but--” 

“And you don’t deserve to be hurting yourself now,” Patton continued. “Honey, I need you to promise me that if you feel...the urge to do that again, you’ll go and get someone, ok?” 

Virgil nodded, breathing still erratic but gradually slowing. “Ok.” 

“Promise me, kiddo. I can’t...the thought of you doing that, I just...come talk to us first, ok? Me, Logan, and Roman are always here. Even Janus and Remus if you can’t find us!” 

“I will,” Virgil croaked, giving a watery smile when Patton ran a careful hand through his hair. “I promise.” 

“Thank you.” 

And I’m…” Virgil hesitated, like he was carefully considering his next words. “I’m sorry. I- I know you’ll tell me not to be but...I’m really sorry. For doing that. For putting you through this.” 

Patton shook his head, feeling his tears slide down his neck and soak into the collar of his shirt. “I just want you to feel safe, kiddo. That’s what we all want. More than anything.” 

Virgil nodded, slowly extracting one arm from where it was pressed in between the back of the couch and Patton’s side, swiping at the tears still streaming down his face. 

“I’m trying,” he said. “I am. I promise, I’m trying  _ so  _ hard.” 

“We know. We all know, Virgil. We see it, even when you don’t. And we’re so, so proud of you.” 

For a second, Virgil looked uneasy, like he wasn’t quite sure if Patton was telling the truth or not. But it didn’t last long, shoulders dropping as he offered a small smile and nod. 

“Thank you. For...for everything.” 

Neither of them were in much of a hurry to move, but it wasn’t long before Virgil’s eyelids began to droop, the anxious side swaying slightly where he sat, and Patton managed to lead him upstairs to his room and into bed.

He stayed in Virgil’s room, humming softly until he gradually drifted off to sleep. It only took a few moments, Virgil having quickly exhausted himself tonight. 

Patton wondered how long it had taken him to work up the courage to ask for help tonight. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t. 

That was...not a possibility he was comfortable thinking about right now. 

But he’d promised he wouldn’t do it anymore. He would reach out first if it got to that point again, and he had plenty of people willing to help. 

Virgil trusted Patton, and after what he’d been through the anxious side’s trust was a difficult thing to earn. 

The least Patton could do was trust Virgil to keep a promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been kinda slow with updating, I've had a pretty stressful week  
> Thank you for reading and commenting!


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